Daddy's Little Demon
by ChocolateCarnival
Summary: Shirosaki Hichigo is one of the rarer and more powerful Incubus' of Hueco Mundo, considered the King of his own realm. But when he travels to the human world to feed reluctantly, he encounters his enemies instead. And this time they seemed to have found a new way to seal a demon, something he is now going to experience first hand, even when he finds something very valuable. Yaoi
1. Daddy's Little Demon

Okay, how to explain this one! Umm...this was supposed to be the first in my three Halloween one-shots but I think I've been buying a bit too much of Masaki Ryoka's work. This one kind of formed all on its own. I was originally going to make this a one-shot based on the inspiration of the Doujinshi's **Indulge in Love** and **Sugarless**. But, it ran away from me and decided to be turned into a short multi-chap fic of about 6-8 chapters.

This one, I'm afraid is very **controversial** because of the content. It has some **very strict warnings **so please adhere to them now as I'll be listing them with consideration to your state of mind:

This fic contains something I call **Reverse Shota**, meaning that instead of an older male dominating an innocent child, it's the other way around (meaning a perverted child dominating an innocent older male). And well, Hichigo isn't **really **a child in this, he only takes _the form _of one. Soul Society is evil and sorry about the first part of this chapter, I really hate hurting my favourite characters.

Later, when I'll be including **M/M** **lemons** in this story, as I will...Hichigo will **not **be in the form of six year old, that's a bit extreme, even for me. I'm having him return to his original form for that, or to an older more acceptable form.

Okay, some explanations. Hichigo's form as a child is merely exploration for me to write children better as I've failed it once before. I just hope that I can manage it better this time as this story is more for comic relief than anything and practice. I've also mixed the story lines of my two top scorers on the poll that I've been running.

Anyways, I'll say this again. THIS STORY IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART! It **contains elements of Shota**, if that puts you off then please do not read any further. For those who remain interested, I'll let you enjoy it for now.

* * *

**Daddy's Little Demon:**

The haunting, scraping calls of the late autumn wind rustling through a range of brown, red and yellowing leaves, echoed harshly throughout the endless corners and twisting streets of one Karakura Town. Bringing forth a startling prelude to the outrageously powerful supernatural battle that was being fought within the air; ragged through the forgotten alleys and lastly trailed into the more homely suburbs where the humans were in danger of being dragged into the unusual skirmish. Igniting the night in a single ragging roar of deep, uncontained fury and unmistakable pain; the resounding noise erupted despairingly into the human plane with ample warning to the lingering dangers.

The sound alone would have been enough to spark a primal instinct to fear the creature that had made it as the patter of small, bare, feet carried an indistinguishable form (bathed darkly in the shadows of the moonless sky) into the everlasting night. Several bright streetlamps flickered and dimmed at the deadly force of red and black reiatsu. Shattering completely at the slightest, _direct_, brush of that overwhelming power as it leaked subtly into the atmosphere from the running figure. Small black nailed fingers curled protectively around a too large white cloak-like kosode, tripping over the material with bare feet a few times as large, deep golden eyes, bathed in a sea of black sclera, frantically scanned the narrowing horizon for the rising threat to his life.

Two bold lines of red curving sensually beneath a left eye (the only distinguishable feature of the Cero Espada, Shirosaki Hichigo) illuminated across a pale cheek only briefly beneath a flickering light before a spray of shattered glass showered him from above. His well known estigma(1*) marked his position as the strongest of the Espada, along with the gothic zero that was burned into the nape of his neck beneath the sprawl of raggedly cut, spiky white locks that tumbled down his back in two dragon like tails. He was actively cursing his luck that night, his heavily damaged and sealed form carrying him deeper and deeper into the darkness as he struggled to summon enough controlled reiatsu to open up a Garganta to escape into.

Hichigo had _never_ in his long life as a powerful Incubus,_ ever_ expected that a damned Shinigami _Captain_ would follow one of the Espada into this small town for a confrontation when fighting in the human plane was forbidden. He had also never expected himself to have become so careless as to not sense the powerful reiatsu that had been stalking him most of the night and most of all, Hichigo had _never_ expected his entire being to have been shattered so completely by a masterful kido seal that had shut away more than three quarters of his incredible power in the last five minutes alone.

The seal was powerful too, its deadly marks tracing along his chest in black as it crept down his left arm like a burnt tattoo of intricate design. It was painful as well, _dizzyingly_ painful.

_Fuck_, since when had the peace loving Shinigami become so ruthless? Those who never fought outside of their separate realm in fear of damaging humans, following him into such a small town to hunt him down like a dog? It was like they were protecting something in this plane, something indiscernible that couldn't be traced and it was pissing Hichigo off. For a Taichō to have followed him here, knowing full well that they wouldn't survive against him without cheating so predictably...it was ridiculous! It wasn't like Hichigo actually hurt his victims when he fed for heaven's sake; he was far more gentle and considerate than his brethren. He left them _alive_ at the end. But still! _He_ was the ruler of Hueco Mundo, damn it! The demons all bowed at _his_ feet. So how had he not known about this? And where the hell was that delicious scent that curled in the air like an intoxicant coming from...it was so nostalgic...so sweet...it was—.

Sure, this was the first time he had ventured into this realm in the last hundred years but to run into this? _Nothing_ could have prepared him for it, and nothing could save him now either it seemed. The effects of the kido, Hichigo grimaced at the lingering brush of pain from the wound that was carved deeply into his abdomen. It had left him in the form of a six year old child. A six year old child, with the unstable powers to match! He was practically helpless, stranded until his executioner decided to stop playing games with him and arrived to finish to the job. And for it to happen on the only night where Hichigo could have found some semblance of peace in this godforsaken realm...it was all turning into a damned nightmare now.

'Of all the nights, it just had to be this one eh, Ichi?' He asked himself softly, his small child-like voice a far cry from the hauntingly beautiful tenor that usually drifted like silk past his lips. The glimmer of a street lamp above him dimmed and flickered at Hichigo's now slowing form. Glinting momentarily off of the broken form of an elegant black daitō as the cornered demon gazed yearningly at his shattered blade with sorrowful eyes. The last relic of his _beloved_, taken away from him by unkind hands many, many years ago, had splintered under the seal of his powers that night. Something that had infuriated the white haired being enough to release his most powerful form, and in the process had only sped up the work of the magic that was sealing his power away from him.

As the broken black blade glinted ominously in the last flicker of the exhausted street light before the bulb blew at a lash of uncontrolled reiatsu, the white haired demon allowed Zangetsu to drop from his small fingers to the ground below. The clatter of steel ringing far too loudly in his ears, almost like the harbinger of death, as he lost the last of his fading connection with Zangetsu's spirit. He probably couldn't even release a single Getsuga Tenshō without disintegrating the blade into nothing, something Hichigo simply would not do. He would _not_ lose the last piece of his mate that had been entrusted to him after his death.

_It was useless_, he sighed sadly, golden eyes gazing hatefully at the trail of blood and obvious reiatsu he had left behind in his careless haste to get away.

His now child-like, golden orbs did not need the artificial light to see. The night was spread all around him like a comforting blanket just as his pursuer's presence rounded the corner to the dead end alleyway he had inadvertently barricaded himself in. Hichigo breathed softly in resignation, small black nailed fingers curling around the white fabric of his too large Bankai cloak, sharpened nails ripping at too long sleeves to gain more freedom of movement as he firmly prepared himself for what was to come. He was leaning tiredly against the brick wall for support, gazing dazedly up at the blanket of stars above him in thought.

It was strange, the world had never looked so big to his eyes, never looked so damned intimidating either. He chuckled softly, making one last grab at his ever eluding power before gathering it in the palm of his right hand. His eyesight was already overrun by inevitable dots of black, his mind spinning as his breaths rasped painfully in his throat. A trickle of dark crimson escaped pale lips with a cough as his blood roared deafeningly within his ears. Things were not looking good, and neither was the prospect of escaping this with his life. It seemed that Hichigo could finally join his beloved, where ever he was...could finally escape the pain from the last few hundred years that had plagued his heart night for night and tore at his soul everytime he was forced to feed from another. He just hoped that he had not disappointed his beloved's last memory, had not cheated the promise that had been spoken between them...

'I've finally cornered you!' A triumphant voice sing-songed, snapping Hichigo's attention towards the alleyway entrance that was being invaded by the tall, flowery pink shadow of the Hachibantai Taichō. The man in the Gotei-13 that was known for his peaceful nature, even when he was also the most unpredictable captain of all. His mere presence was enough to drag a sneer of irritation across Hichigo's lips darkly. 'Hueco Mundo's most elusive Incubus and King. The Cero Espada, Shiro.' Hichigo smirked deeply, grinning insanely even through the taste of his blood as he blinked away the sting that rushed into his tired eyes.

Just because he'd been cornered and hunted down like an animal, didn't mean that his unstable personality and irrationality was ever affected. On the contrary, with Zangetsu's normal whispers of calm echoing through his soul gone, Hichigo was practically on the verge of losing his mind. Something that should have happened the night that _they_ had murdered his beloved before his very eyes. The fact that he hadn't, like any other demon would have done, stood testament to the insane strength of will and power that laid dormant within his very veins.

'Heh! I never thought I'd see the day where the _noble_ Gotei-13 resorted to killing little children for fun.' The white haired being noted with a deadly leer, struggling around a stuttering breath as he looked his coming murderer in the eye with sheer determination and a little insane titter of mirth. 'Oh_ how_ the _mighty_ have fallen, Kyouraku Shunsui. This just tops the cake of your mistakes, Shinigami. You are officially worse than the demons that you hunt so jovially, in fact...come morning your precious Reiou will probably throw you out of the heaven you so _self-righteously_ seat yourselves upon.'

'_Silence_, demon. Do not think that I do this job willingly, Fallen Espada.' The suddenly serious voice said and Hichigo scoffed in irritation, turning to the side in annoyance as a deep scowl tugged at his white brow. He could no longer look the man in the eye, despising the unreserved pity that he saw shimmering within those grey depths as he gazed warily at the twin released Zanpactō that were raised in preparation to strike at him instead. 'We have to stop you before you find _him_. If you find him, our realms will become unbalanced again. Something that cannot happen. With this method, at least I can safely seal off your powers before you have a chance to destroy me and end your reign of terror over the moonless nights.' Hichigo nodded mockingly in thought, tapping his chin with his forefinger before he turned his unwavering attention towards the man one last time. Raising his small black nailed hand, thanking the world for the torn sleeve that only brushed against the back of his hand, so that he could point his forefinger and middle finger at his enemy accusingly.

'I have no idea what you are babbling about, Shinigami. But I'll not beg for my life, only condone your actions for finally taking the leap to try and stop me. However, you have forgotten one thing, Hachibantai-san...you're _underestimating_ me again. Was that not the downfall of all the previous captains trying to take me down too?' Before his opponent could even raise a barrier to protect himself, Hichigo had released the last of his reiatsu in the perfect sphere of a fully charged cero. Screaming, haunting, power ignited the night in a darker light as the burst of pitch black reiatsu knocked his opponent off his feet. Sending his weapons skittering in different directions as the Shinigami struggled to get out the way of the magnitude of the blast.

Hichigo groaned under the rain of stone and concrete, his back cracking painfully against the wall behind him with the sheer force he was propelled into it. The back of his head colliding with brick as his smaller form crumbled to the unforgiving ground beneath him. _Shit!_ That wasn't even a _quarter_ of the power it used to be as the fallen demon child stared up at the long brown haired man easily climbing to his feet again. That was it, the powerful blast had taken the last of his strength and other than being singed around the edges and smiling playfully down at him, it seemed that his opponent was absolutely unharmed. He was walking slowly over to Hichigo's fallen form, one of his Zanpactō still dropped from his fingers in the fall, but it wouldn't matter...one was all he needed.

'Sorry, Shiro-chan. I did not order this, neither do I agree with the old man's ideals. But I was the only one that would be able to finish the job. And just so you know, I really hate the method Kurotsuchi created to seal a demon's power. It's degrading to you, locking you in such an innocent form whilst being hunted down like a powerless child. But we cannot let you escape tonight, your death will be for a good cause, I promise.' Hichigo said nothing, merely curling protectively around the wound in his stomach that Katen Kyokotsu had dealt him earlier. Trying to stop the flow of sickening blood as he retained the strangest urge to cry like the child he now was.

'B-breaking...li'l children now? Y-you really _are_ the worst.' Hichigo murmured in defeat, baring his sharpened canines at the older male even when he knew that he had reached the end of his power and will. '...if _he_ had seen what you have done to the world he had worked so hard to change...he'd hate you forever..._I_ h-hate you...' Hichigo said truthfully through his struggling breaths, large golden eyes just about to fall shut under incredible strain when he frowned abruptly. There was a flicker of bright orange entering the abandoned alleyway, shimmering into existence over the Hachibantai-Taichō's shoulder as Hichigo blinked owlishly to discern if what he was seeing was real.

_Orange_? The child-like being laughed softly, it seemed he had finally lost his sanity. There was _no_ way that what he was seeing was real. No way in hell that the lithe, familiar form that grabbed a hold of the fallen Zanpactō of the captain and rushed forward so boldly to protect him was anything but a hallucination. That was until he was forced to do a double take, a touch of blood hitting his cheeks as Hichigo watched in horror as a look of sheer surprise coloured Kyouraku's features. The menacing form of his own Zanpactō sticking out of his bloodied abdomen, something that should have been impossible for a human to do or even be able to sense him as he turned his head to frown at the one that had impaled him without mercy.

'I-impossible...' Was the only whispered word the captain was able to get out before fierce brown eyes scowled deeply at him and tangerine brows furrowed in ragging anger. A now bloodied hand having grabbed a hold of the end of the sword that had been mere millimetres away from sinking into Hichigo's heart. The orangette flung the weapon to the side harshly...a single kick to his chest sending the man backwards onto the pavement as the larger form of someone very familiar knelt beside Hichigo tenderly. A soft haze of pure concern entering those memorable brown orbs as Hichigo found his beloved staring down at him anxiously. Soft, gentle fingertips coming up to wipe away at the tears Hichigo felt escaping the corner of his eyes at the sudden overwhelming rush of emotion screaming through his mind harshly.

'Since when do grown men try to murder _innocent_ little children!' The young male threw over his shoulder in a deadly yell at the still surprisingly conscious Shinigami. 'Fuck, I swear this town only gets worse every _fucking_ year. I'm sure the police are going to just love you, asshole. Are you alright little one? Did he hurt you?' The orange haired teen asked anxiously, concerned fingertips tracing down a small torso to check for any deep wounds that could attest to the horrifying amounts of blood staining the child's clothes as Hichigo felt the sudden overwhelming push of his beloved's very soul entering his heart once again and offering him his lost reiatsu unconsciously.

It wasn't _real_, the being that was staring down at him from behind a splay of semi-long orange locks and gentle brown eyes should have been dead long ago...died...whilst he had been forced to watch...it was..._hell_...his...

'I-Ichigo?' Hichigo asked softly, _uncertainly_. Afraid that everything was a lingering dream as his mind failed to keep up with the turn of the situation. A flood of dark black was starting to invade the edges of his vision, a gentle voice calling out to him in alarm and fear. Not his name as it usually did, but it still tried to keep him tethered to reality that had long since released him from its unwavering bonds. The scent that curled so perfectly around his nose, the lull of a gentle heart right beneath his ear as he was picked up carefully and cradled against a warm chest...there was no mistake that this being was human, _not_ the Shinigami counterpart to Hichigo's demon soul like before. But Ichigo's incredibly powerful reiatsu and unwavering life-force, just as he remembered, was still there. Ragging powerfully beneath the surface of his skin...as it had _always_ been. Something to come home to as he sniffled softly.

This had been the scent that he had been hunting that night, the scent that haunted him in his sleep and lulled him into the deep and dark oblivion of unconsciousness that was drowning him in a new sense of fear and elation. This _shouldn't_ be happening...and yet...it was and for the first time in a long time, Hichigo had grabbed a hold of the sanity that had been eluding him as small fingers curled gratefully in a soft jumper. Merely breathing the sweet, intoxicating aroma that surrounded him so perfectly. Several tears of relief spilled past dark eyelashes as the white haired demon adhered to the new form he found himself stuck in and the strange turn of events that had practically just saved his life.

When he woke, he was sure he would face harsh reality again...but now...he would revel in the little bit of peace he had found.

**...**

Long tanned fingers carded soothingly through soft, spiky snow white locks. The single pad of a fingertip, tracing the skin of a soft cheek as concerned brown eyes observed the steady rise and fall of a small chest. Gazing tenderly at angelic features, highlighted by the large beautiful eyes that Ichigo was sure were hidden beneath those pale eyelids, he carefully caressed the two curving red lines that ran along a left cheek sweetly in lingering confusion. He couldn't help but wonder briefly how they had gotten there as the orangette breathed softly in pure concern for the child's health. This was the first time since the panicked induced event that Ichigo had walked in on several long hours ago, that he had been able to take a good look at the child he had saved.

He looked _so_ small and insignificant curled beneath the sheets of a large double bed, fast asleep and unaware of the world around him or the chocolate brown orbs that were staring at him constantly in worry. The twenty-six-year-old Kurosaki Ichigo pressed his forehead into the palm of his hand, trying desperately to keep the headache skittering across his forehead at bay as he cursed softly in exasperation. The hollow silence of his family home was getting far too unnerving for his frayed nerves, his heart constantly reaching out to the child that was sleeping so innocently beneath the sheets of his old bed. The startling quiet in the room was only interrupted every now and then by his father's voice as he made a range of frantic phone calls to track down the boy's parents, asking questions...having to make statements as he gazed down at his own trembling hands in a haze of confusion.

It was all becoming a little too overwhelming for his already taxed mind.

The little child, he couldn't have been more than six and he had been hurt too. Even though it was not fatally and Isshin had been able to patch him up without any outside help, Ichigo_ knew_ the trauma from the event was going to be enough to scar the little one for life. And for it to have been done by a grown man no less, just _what_ was this world coming to? The orangette cursed freely once more, raking his own fingers through semi-long orange locks that tumbled into his eyes and feathered sensually across his cheeks in irritation. He had just been walking home from Chad's apartment earlier that night, knowing full well that he would have to be giving class in the morning again and had stayed out too late, but for him to have walked in on a ragging nightmare...it had been a deep and unpredictable blow.

Ichigo was sure that he was still swimming through the after-effects of shock, not sure what to do with himself as he gazed dazedly at the blank walls that once belonged to his old room in the Kurosaki Clinic. The soft light from a bedside lamp spilling into the room, illuminated the world in a gentle glow as he blinked rapidly to clear his fading vision of the blur that had settled across his eyes. He could _barely_ recall what had happened to him, or what he had done to save the child as he closed his dazed orbs behind long lashes. A delayed yawn tugging at petal pink lips as he only now realized the exhaustion that was pulling at his heart incessantly the more that time passed onwards.

He was _tired_, his mind continuously running through the confusing events that he was only vaguely able to recall, knowing that he had somehow managed to injure the man that had been trying to hurt his charge. The blood on his hands and the deep gash across his left palm, which was wrapped in a pristine bandage and treated now, was a testament to that. But how he had done it, or even how he had known someone was in danger when the entire night was pitch black without a single streetlamp to guide him, Ichigo would never know or be able to recall. The worst of it however, was that even when he had finally been able to get the child out of that abandoned alleyway earlier, his attempted murderer had seemingly vanished into nothing.

After that however, everything had just become a blur of indistinguishable colours and indiscernible sounds. Where Ichigo was so _sure_ that something was tying him to this child, something that he could not describe but was tangible to his very soul all the same. As he gazed absently at the half empty cup of tea his sister had prepared for him earlier, the contents now long cooled and forgotten, he could not help but feel unbearable sorrow for the one sleeping so peacefully in his presence. Smiling fondly at the soft noise of contentment the small child made as he burrowed himself further beneath the warm sheets; the action prompted the orangette to brush away the soft strands of white that had fallen into closed eyes tenderly. _Almost_ forgetting the events that had just passed if he could hang onto the sweetness that curled so perfectly around his soul for a moment longer.

He shivered softly, noting the lightening sky just beyond his window as the night seemed to be drawing to a close. Ichigo had unconsciously or consciously returned to his family home instead of his own apartment earlier. Knowing instinctively that his father would be a greater help than he ever would as Isshin had only taken one look at his frantically knocking son, begging him to help the little one laying unconscious in his arms as he had ushered them inside without another word. Something the orange haired teacher would be eternally grateful for as he tiredly leaned back in the chair he had pulled up to the side of his bed. Rubbing irritably at his eyes as the lingering touch of rain that had fallen on their journey here, which still clung to his clothes and skin irritably.

It had been chaos both inside his mind and outside in the world since then, where the orangette was left alone with his frantic thoughts for far too long and too afraid to give into the pull of his exhaustion because of the dreams that he was sure would be waiting for him on the other side. This night, it reminded him too much of the evening that his own mother had died before his eyes, something that still plagued the orangette's heart many years later as the vividness of his memories never once faded from his mind. And for another innocent, like all the little innocents that he taught as an elementary school teacher, to experience something like he had...left him near inconsolable with grief and regret that such as small child—.

'Ichigo? Are you still up?' A familiar voice called in tandem to the soft knock on the door; instantly snapping hazed brown orbs towards the bedroom door as Ichigo unconsciously tensed his shoulders in the need to protect his new ward just as his father's spiky black head peaked through the parted gap. Stepping inside eventually, after the orange haired teacher relaxed a bit more in his presence, Isshin sighed softly in exasperation at his son that was still seated in the uncomfortable chair. His long, jean clad legs were drawn up, arms curled protectively around them as he stayed just close enough to reach tanned fingers out to comfort the small child sleeping in his bed should he experience a nightmare. Those messy orange locks, tumbling into brown eyes to brush across pale cheeks and trace down the nape of his neck to tickle the collar of his blue jumper was much more tousled and messy than before.

'I thought I told you to get some rest and change your damp clothes, you're going to get sick.' Isshin noted seriously but Ichigo just shrugged, brushing away his father's concerns and the hand that had come to rest upon his shoulder as he turned his full attention back to the child sleeping in his bed. It wouldn't matter. His clothes were already dried by now, he wasn't even cold anymore, even when his emotions still felt off. Ichigo just wanted to make sure that he didn't miss a single instant beside this child, didn't want to disturb the peaceful rest that he had found as he reluctantly blinked away his lingering exhaustion again. He would not give in to the pull to join the white haired child on the other side of the bed that so desperately wished to claim his wavering resolve.

'Have you found them, yet?' Ichigo asked anxiously, turning forlornly towards his father with clear concern. He was gazing pleadingly up at the black haired male standing behind him in subdued gravity. There was a clear question shimmering within his eyes, something that the older of the two did not miss as he shook his head softly in the negative. It was the exact answer that Ichigo did not want to hear, but he somehow knew was coming for a long while now. He just had a feeling inside of him that there was something a little different about this child, something indiscernible that made the orangette sure there were no parents or family waiting for him. Perhaps it had been something that he had seen briefly within those unclear eyes not too long ago before the child had faded into unconsciousness in his arms. Or the strange connection that tied them together since the moment that Ichigo had seen him in such terrible danger.

'No.' Isshin eventually confirmed after a while of hushed silence. 'I haven't found a trace of his existence or his identity. He hasn't been listed as a missing person and no one in this town is looking for him, even so late at night the orphanages haven't reported any missing children either. He's truly a lost child, Ichigo. I've already spoken to the police, but they cannot come out until much later, maybe not even tomorrow either. It seems that a terrorist attack has raged through the streets most of the night and they are still trying to find the cause of it.' Ichigo frowned deeply at the information, feeling a rush of anger igniting his veins as his shoulders tensed at the audacity of the authorities in this town. For heaven's sake, a child has almost been murdered in cold blood and they were off chasing ghosts?

'B-but _how_ can they—.' Ichigo was quickly quieted by his father's hand resting on his shoulder, squeezing softly to bring his mind back into reality as he slumped tiredly in his seat. His legs stretching out in front of him as he closed his brown eyes in exasperation. The police, the authorities...everything in this small town was useless when it came to protecting others and helping them. The sole reason why Ichigo was so reluctant to get them involved in the first place, but he felt that he had to this time. And look where it got him? Absolutely nowhere, as he rested his fingers across the small pale fingers that were curled around the warm comforter of his bed.

'Hush, Ichigo. I know that it's unfair and that you're upset but sometimes things take precedence over others. You on the other hand _need_ to get some rest. We can sort through the information in the morning. Untill he is awake and can give us a name, or tell us who his parents are...we cannot do much either. And do you really want to hand him over to the hospital now, lose him in the social system to—.' Isshin never got to finish his sentence, Ichigo's noise of pure terror ringing throughout the room in startled intensity as a look of sheer panic crossed his attractive features. A breath even lodging painfully within his chest as he felt the first brush of panicked tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

'NO...no...I'll not...' Ichigo breathed in pure horror, startling both him and his father with the intensity in which he had spoken as he tried to shake off the lingering panic the mere thought that someone taking this child away from him, ignited within his veins. The thought was inconceivable, _hurting_ him deeply and irrevocably as Ichigo breathed shakily to try and quell the erratic race of his heart and the reverberating ache singeing the edges of his soul. He could vaguely hear his father sigh somewhere behind him, pushing him to his feet and forcibly leading him towards the free side of the bed with set determination. And no matter how much the orangette struggled against the grip, how he tried to twist...he was caught fast before being forced to sit down on the soft mattress instead.

'That's enough, Ichigo. Get some sleep. You're way past your tolerance for excitement in one night and being in an irritable and panicked state tomorrow when he wakes, you'll only frighten him. And then what help will you be when he's just as upset as you?' Reluctantly seeing the reason his father was pointing out to him, Ichigo crawled beneath the sheets and blankets of his bed gratefully. Laying his head beside the small white form next to him. Falling into the soft feather pillows as he finally closed his eyes in sheer exhaustion, completely forgetting to even change out of his clothes as he breathed softly in contentment.

He didn't care that a warm blanket was thrown over his shoulders and the light in his room was extinguished, or even the door shutting once more behind his father as the smaller form crept unconsciously closer to him several moments later. He didn't jerk back in fright when a small forehead pressed against his chest, merely allowing his nose to fall forward into soft white locks as the world around him seemed to suddenly right itself once more. His arms falling protectively around the smaller frame as he sighed softly in pure bliss. It wasn't long after that that Ichigo allowed himself to finally be pulled into a deep and dark oblivion that was filled with unknown dreams and something that niggled importantly at the back of his mind before it faded once more.

* * *

Time seemed to pass into an uncountable stretch, leaving two forms...one small...the other bigger...to fall into an age old comfort that neither of them had felt for a very long time. Where for Hichigo, he had finally found what his instincts and lost heart had been calling out for, for more than a hundred years and Ichigo found an unmistakable soul deep connection tying him to the demon like form fast asleep in his arms. Neither of them cared much for the world outside of the little circle of comfort they had found together in those moments; and when it was time to face reality once more, it was understandably Hichigo that was the first to ascend into consciousness, albeit reluctantly.

Being dragged into wakefulness by the overwhelmingly sweet scent of his lost beloved's form curled so protectively around him, the white haired being shifted irritably in those restrictive arms. Large golden eyes blinking open tiredly at the brush of midday sun streaking against his skin, surprised to find the stretch of delectably tanned flesh mere inches away from his nose. His mind was reeling at the possibility in front of him, wanting nothing more than to run his blue tongue along the column of flesh to hear the sweet moan he knew he could drag from his next victim's throat. But he was forced to shuffle backwards instead, groaning at the rushing reminder of his haunting memories.

He could practically feel his blood rushing in his ears, threatening to deafen him, as his mind spun headily at the sudden influx of information entering his mind. Golden eyes, bathed in a sea of black sclera, scanned his surroundings and the one curled so protectively around him several times over and over again, _just_ to make sure that what he was seeing was real. Not the dream he had thought it was at first. And he was quite elated to note that his eyes, nose and sense of touch had not betrayed him quite yet as a deep touch of warmth settled across his very soul.

The white haired incubus smiled softly, a rare sight to see besides the usual insane smirk curling at his lips, as right before his eyes - tangible and alive - breathing softly so that warm puffs of air skittered across the top of his white hair, _his_ Ichigo was fast asleep. The _very_ counterpart to his soul, alive and albeit human, still there as he breathed softly in pure relief. Never had he expected something like this to happen, never expected that he would ever see his beloved again and for the first time in a long while, Hichigo felt a touch of true peace. Now, all he had to do was claim his beloved all for himself again and all that entailed was for him to lean upwards to capture those petal pink lips with his again and ascertain his domina—.

Hichigo stopped himself though. Small, pale lips hovering mere millimetres away from familiar petal pink lips in order to claim them again as he cursed his current predicament. He was so small in comparison to Ichigo now, nothing more than a child. So how was he going to offer his beloved the pleasures of their bond or even feed when he could no longer sustain himself through the life-force a kiss could share? It was a damned nightmare as he cursed uncharacteristically. His small action, brushing their noses together unexpectedly, had the orangette shifting onto his back though. Arching into the pillows, Ichigo seemed to drift further off into his interrupted sleep without incident, a small noise of sweet contentment drifting past his lips as restless eyes flickered beneath pale eyelids.

Hichigo chuckled softly, revelling in the familiarity of Ichigo's presence as he watched bright orange locks falling into closed eyes with a messy sprawl. This was the first time he had seen Ichigo's hair at this length, smiling indulgently when he found himself liking it almost instantly. Nothing had changed, not the beauty of the one in front of him, nor the pureness of his soul and not the power humming so addictively beneath the surface of his skin as the older being, even though stuck in the body of a child, reached his small black nailed fingers forwards to brush them through tempting orange strands happily. He had been terrified that Ichigo would wake at his presence, but now he had realized, it wouldn't matter because he had just found the perfect way to integrate himself into his beloved's life.

Smirking softly in heady triumph, golden eyes hooded behind pale eyelids as Hichigo laid his fingers across that tempting mouth and settled his smaller form atop the steady rise and fall of a warm chest. It hadn't even been several seconds later that a muffled yelp could be heard echoing through the air, his action dragging the orangette into full wakefulness in an instant. Where the weight of something on his chest and the brush of warm lips against his forehead forced the orangette into startled wakefulness as shocked brown orbs gazed hazily up at Hichigo in sheer surprise. The smaller demon-like form raising his black nailed forefinger to his lips in semblance to keep Ichigo's sudden touch of panic quiet.

'Shhh...' He reminded, allowing the brush of reiatsu he could control to gather around him like a cloak as he gazed deeply into chocolate brown eyes. And how beautiful those brown orbs were, losing none of their intensity even in the rush of hazed panic as Hichigo withdrew his hand when he recognized Ichigo relaxing back into his bed under the influence of his power and the brush of his familiar reiatsu.

'W-wha—.' Ichigo started in sheer confusion, forced to trail off though as a hitched breath of surprise lodged itself in his chest when warm lips pressed over his intimately. An instant haze of warm, delectable bliss descended down on his mind, fogging up his senses as he willingly parted his lips for an incessant little tongue. An unrestrained moan spilling past his lips, muffled against another's, as it felt to Ichigo as if something very valuable was being stolen from within him. It was quite painful too, tugging on his heart as a glaze of lingering bewilderment entered chocolate brown orbs and Ichigo fell back against the sheets, merely allowing himself to be completely dominated. It felt so good too, it was like someone was pouring warm, liquid bliss over his entire form as a deep flush spread across his nose and cheeks. He wasn't even aware of anything around him but the press of that expert tongue, his entire soul near shattering at the sensation as he breathed softly through his nose.

It was utter bliss...

'Wake up, Ichigo.' A soft voice whispered against his forehead, a sear of warmth entering his blood suddenly as Ichigo snapped back into reality with a harsh painful tug. 'Did Daddy have a bad dream again?' The voice asked softly in concern and Ichigo frowned deeply, his mind still spinning in dark black circles for whatever reason as he gazed up at the large golden eyes of his most beloved son staring down at him now. He was licking his lips anxiously, a blue tongue swiping across pale lips as the smaller version that looked so much like his father, sniffled softly in distress when Ichigo did not answer him right away. The orangette sighed softly, reaching tanned fingers upwards to run them through soft white locks soothingly as he helped his child down from the perch on his chest and laid him back beneath the sheets and onto his pillow.

'Sorry, Shiro.' Ichigo said softly, smiling teasingly as his mind finally cleared and he touched his fingertip to a small nose in consolation. Pulling the covers over them in comfort as he pulled his child closer to him again. 'Otou-san's feeling a bit strange this morning.' Was all he said as he was abruptly dragged beneath unconsciousness again, a touch of unbearable exhaustion pulling him into oblivion as everything seemed to black out around him. Smiling softly at the feeling of Shiro's small fingers curling in his jumper and his orange locks fell forward to tickle his son's cheeks and nose tenderly, Ichigo completely missed the deadly predatory leer that curled at those pale lips and deep golden eyes gazed quite lovingly at the rested features of his beloved once more.

'With just a little touch of my reiatsu, King, and the ability to alter your memories and all those around you...I can create a whole new life for us. So untill this seal is broken, we'll remain inseparable for now. For eternity this time, King, not just the few hundred years like last time.'

* * *

1* - Estigma – Is the facial marking that all Arrancar bear in Bleach

Okay, I've officially worn myself out. This story had completely consumed me and I loved writing it. But anyways, thank you to those who read it. I just hope that you enjoyed it, any flames will be deleted and used to warm my hot chocolate tonight. For now though, I'm exhausted...nearly dead.

I'm off for my nightly treat of chocolate and an awesome movie. I'm not sure when I'll post the next chapter but depending on whether I make this a two-shot or the planned multi-chap fic you may just receive a new chapter in the next few days.

Ja Ne

Chocolate Carnival


	2. Daddy's Little Protector (Part 1)

Hello again all my honeys! Before I say anything, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed this story, despite those of you who were disturbed by it. It really means a lot that you enjoy it or see the potential in it. Just a reminder again, there will be **no lemons** until **Hichigo returns to his adult state**! My mind may be perverted but I'm not so daring as to publish it like that.

Anyways, I know that this chapter is very short compared to all the things that I usually write, about half the length of my first chapter for this story. But I've split this chapter into 2 parts because of the complexity of part 2 and I'm running out of time to publish this chapter. I'm sorry that it's so short but I'm getting a bit busy at the moment. I have _so _many stories all waiting for an update.

Also, I'm not very good at writing fluff like this. It takes a lot out of me and I'm still practicing with it. So, just a little reminder, I said that this story is just comic relief for me but it's turned into something very serious now. So I thought I gift with the first part before all the really angsty stuff can begin. I'll be working on Part 2 through the next 2-3 days and if I'm lucky I can get it done to publish it before it's time to start writing Breathe Me In, Touch Me, Bind My Soul again.

There are no warnings for this chapter, other than extreme cuteness and some angst in the beginning. I apologize once again, but I hope you enjoy this part. Sorry for the lateness in this publication but I've been overrun with work lately.

I think that's all I can say here. Other than ask you not to kill me at the end of the chapter.

* * *

**Daddy's Little Protector: Part 1**

A messy array of semi-long orange locks feathered sensually across the white of a soft feather pillow; shifting and fluttering under the puffs of controlled breaths and the small, _teasing_, fingertips that were carding through the warm strands tenderly. The lightening sky, outside of the opened curtains, spread a hue of gold, magenta and red across the small six-year-old form sitting upon the soft mattress beside his beloved. Igniting across pale skin hypnotically, little Hichigo smiled indulgently at his mate as he turned his large golden eyes away from the dazzling sunlight seeking to blind him temporarily. Demons weren't meant to walk beneath the sunlight of this world; the daily light was too strong to bear their sensitive forms. They were naturally creatures of the night, thriving in the darkness and like Hichigo, the rightful ruler of the moonless skies; it was a large change to adapt to in those few moments.

It _was_ possible, however, for the truly powerful demons to live in this world without getting hurt. And as it was, even with three quarters of his powers still sealed, the little demon would still be able to stay beside his beloved for now. But it would not do to dwell on the worries for the future or what it would entail, for Hichigo was sure that there would be many trails ahead for the both of them. All that truly mattered was that he had his beloved Ichigo back. _His_ Ichigo, the very counterpart to his soul, where the orangette's mere presence alone left Hichigo to revel in sheer delight when Ichigo unconsciously leaned into his small exploring fingertips. Murmuring softly in his sleep when they trailed softly against slightly pinked cheeks, dragged teasingly down a straight nose that wrinkled softly at his touch before Hichigo even dared to swipe a small black nailed thumb across slightly parted petal pink lips.

He shivered blissfully at the velvety softness that caressed the pad of his finger, recalling briefly the touch of pleasure they had gifted him the day before. He had probably startled his King, Hichigo thought with a smirk. The day that a six-year-old kisses you like that, it must have been a bit overwhelming. He was just lucky that Ichigo was so susceptible to his power, otherwise the orangette would have fought the reishi link that he had managed to establish between their two souls a lot more, something that could have become very painful for the both of them if it had happened. But it _had_ to be done, there was _no_ other way. Hichigo _needed_ to alter Ichigo's memories and that was easiest way to do it. Sadly though, his King wouldn't remember any of it when he woke up. All that he would remember was that Hichigo was his six-year-old son 'Shiro' and that they had been attacked the night before by a strange man bearing two large swords. He would have to take the rest from there as the white haired demon didn't know a whole lot about the life Ichigo lived here just yet...he also didn't want to go digging into memories that he had no right to see without Ichigo's trust first.

A soft frown furrowed across a pale forehead however, when golden eyes concernedly observed a tangerine brow wrinkling even in Ichigo's sleep as his 'Otou-san' seemed to drift through a hazy touch a sleep that had dragged him into a separate world that even the white haired being couldn't reach him in. It was disconcerting to little Hichigo. He could literally _feel_ the sorrow that was staining his beloved's dreams even now as the orangette's breathing picked up a notch and tanned fingertips twisted in the sheets distressingly to try and ground himself. How long had he been watching Ichigo like this? He just couldn't look away, burning into his mind everything single detail that had transpired since he had stayed beside Ichigo to fulfil his need to be close to his beloved's soul again. But when he saw the subtle drip of distressed tears slipping past curling black lashes, Hichigo knew that it was time to wake his King. He didn't like seeing Ichigo hurt, especially when he didn't know the cause of it or the _one_ causing it.

'Does it hurt you, beloved? Your dreams?'

'Why so sad, my most beloved Ichigo? Why the tears?' Hichigo asked despairingly in a haunting, lilting, tone. Leaning over Ichigo's sleeping form to rest his small lips against an overly warm forehead tenderly as he reached for the depths of his elusive power to pour his reiatsu against his beloved's skin. 'I'm by your side again; there's no need for your pure soul to be stained by such sorrow and pain. If only you'll remember me then perhaps this pain will go away. But for now, do not despair my sweetest King...for I am _always_ with you. Nothing can separate us, even in death a small part of you still remained within me to keep me sane...just as I'm sure a piece of my soul still resides within the depths of your heart...you only have to find it again.'

Ichigo groaned softly in his restrictive slumber, kept captive in a deep haze of overwhelming sleep, the orangette sought desperately to fight his way out of the powerful bonds that kept him tethered to this unknown world where he was sure he had just witnessed something very important to his soul. But what it was that he had seen he couldn't recall; the images flittering away from him just as quickly as they had come. The strange event however, left behind a hollow emptiness within Ichigo's heart. That even when a calming voice called out to him from the outside of his consciousness, urging him back into reality, Ichigo could _still _feel the lingering after effects of his own distress skittering across his sensitive skin.

Chocolate brown eyes, unseeing and blank within this world, weighed down by a sudden heaviness that did not want to leave him be as his eyelids refused to budge. He_ needed_ to wake up, Ichigo thought. He didn't like this feeling. It was like his very soul was calling out for something that he couldn't understand but needed so desperately. It was painful, headily painful in a soul deep way that Ichigo had not felt in a very long time. However, the instant that warm lips passed over his forehead, _everything_ seemed to come to a shocking standstill around him. A soft breath hitched in his chest, limbs trembling at the touch of small fingers cupping his cheeks and the subtle feeling of a heavy pressure settling across Ichigo's heart as it poured directly into his skin. He suddenly couldn't breathe under the touch, his heart stammering in his chest as soft strands of hair tickled across his cheeks and warm lips soon followed to press against the furrow in his brow again and again. Tugging a small noise of contentment from parted petal pink lips as Ichigo tried to fight the rising call to wake in reality as valiantly as he could.

'Otou-san...please wake up...Daddy...please...' A hauntingly sweet voice called and Ichigo instantly jerked awake at the gentle touch of a small hand patting the top of his head tenderly before a small nose brushed against his own playfully in an Eskimo's kiss. A cool forehead falling forward to rest against his own as chocolate brown eyes blearily snapped open at the small touches and the soft calls that he was so sure his beloved child was making. The little hitch in that small voice, fingertips tugging distressingly at orange locks when he didn't answer right away, _all_ forced depthless chocolate brown orbs to blink open rapidly to try and discern the faded world around him again. His gaze instantly connecting with the tear glazed golden eyes of his six-year-old son.

Shiro was on the verge of tears, his small fingers twining in the front of Ichigo's dark blue jumper as a whimper of fear spilled past his pale lips. His voice calling out to Ichigo again as the twenty-six-year old father instantly felt his heart shattering at the sight. A deep seated alarm igniting within his veins as he feared what could have caused his son's distress to such a degree. The orangette quickly and gently reached up his forefinger to brush away at the crystalline tear that escaped dark lashes to trail down a small pale cheek. The tear following the skin around those two curving lines of red running beneath a left eye before it brushed against Ichigo's fingertip instead to be swiped away tenderly. Ichigo murmuring soothingly as he saw his child look up at him with undeniable affection and consolation when he seemed to calm at Ichigo's comforting touch eventually.

Why was the sight affecting him so much? Breaking Ichigo's heart when he was sure he had seen his son's tears many times before now? Even _then_ he was sure he had _not_ felt this insatiable need within him to soothe away Shiro's fears and shield him from the world so possessively and protectively so that no harm or upset could come to him. It was odd, Ichigo hadn't felt this before but even as he breathed softly in relief when Shiro relaxed under his touch, he was forced to lock away his confusion in the back of his mind. Sitting up despite the dizziness rushing into his head so that he could bring his upset child closer to him for a brief embrace. Not at all fazed by Shiro's insistence on pressing his small forehead against Ichigo's stomach and winding his small arms around Ichigo's waist in search of comfort in a rather restrictive embrace. Since when was his little one so strong, Ichigo thought as he felt those arms tighten almost painfully around his waist.

'W-what's wrong, Shi? Why are you so upset? Did you have a nightmare?' Ichigo asked soothingly, tanned fingertips burying softly in white locks, observing the beautiful white strands critically as they trailed in two dragon like tails down a small back to brush the curve of spine. Smiling indulgently when Shiro tipped his head back, deep golden eyes gazing into Ichigo's eyes before he shook his head in the negative. Unwinding himself from his purchase on Ichigo as he crawled into his father's lap instead; Shiro laid his ear against a warm chest as he listened contentedly to the beat of heart. Winding pale fingertips, brushed softly by the slightly long black sleeves of his borrowed pyjamas, in a blue jumper as a giggle escaped his lips when Ichigo curled his arms around him protectively before hiking him up his hip and he prepared to stand. The orangette scanning his surroundings with a touch of deep confusion, why was he back at the clinic again and why―.

'Daddy was crying in his sleep,' Shiro said suddenly and Ichigo's thoughts stilled with a frown tugging at his brow, staring blankly at the early morning hour of 6:30 that was displayed on the clock beside his bed. His hand automatically came up to feel the subtle wetness on his cheek with a deep and bewildered confusion. 'I don't like seeing Otou-san so sad.' Shiro noted again and Ichigo nodded softly in understanding as he pressed a warm kiss to his child's forehead as a way to tell him he was alright now. What _the_ hell? Since when did he cry in his sleep? What was _wrong_ with him? Ichigo could barely even take several steps now without swaying uncertainly on his feet and only when Shiro tightened his grip around Ichigo's neck and called out to him again in concern did the world start making sense to him again.

'I'm sorry Shi; I'm feeling a bit sick. I don't even know what we're doing at Ojii-san's (1*) house.' Ichigo admitted, completely surprised when strong fingers gripped his chin between a small black nailed forefinger and thumb before his head was wrenched down so that a small forehead could press against his softly. Deeply concerned golden eyes, bathed in a sea of black sclera, seeming to search Ichigo's dazed brown orbs for something that only Shiro could see as the orangette shivered softly at the soothing coldness present within those fingertips and smooth forehead as it seeped into overly warm skin. Chocolate brown eyes blinking lazily when small lips pressed against the tip of his nose and Shiro reached for Ichigo's free hand to twine their fingers together softly, palm to palm as small fingers offered a surprisingly strong grip. An unseen smirk of satisfaction curling at pale lips when Ichigo retaliated by burying his nose in soft white locks teasingly.

'What was that for, Shiro?' Ichigo asked softly as he continued to make his way towards the door of his old bedroom, the early morning sun rather bright in the family home he had moved out of a long time ago but strangely welcoming still as it warmed the back of his neck and the top of his shoulders. 'You're rather affectionate this morning.' Leaning tiredly against the doorframe of his room, Ichigo breathed shakily when small fingers squeezed his hand in distress and tugged at the orange hair at the base of his neck when his eyes sought to drift shut again at the press of an overwhelming fatigue he hadn't felt in a long time. In fact, the subtle pulse of a headache streaking across his forehead was quite distracting as well, especially when Shiro started slipping from his grip and he had to hike him up his hip again.

'You feel warm, Otou-san.' Shiro said simply and Ichigo frowned again, bewildered at his son's actions before a warm nose was laid against his shoulder to nuzzle the fabric of Ichigo's jumper, almost as if Shiro was scenting him. 'A kiss always takes the pain away, Daddy, remember? Like you did to me when I was sick last time. I got really warm then too.' Ichigo chuckled deeply in amusement, feeling suddenly relieved at his son's words as he nodded in praise. Pressing his lips to the top of a white head before braving the stairs one at a time towards the kitchen.

Well, if his Shiro's prognosis was correct then he probably had a fever, but the last time he had been sick had been ages ago. Something that was rare for Ichigo. But for now, with Shiro curled so happily in his arms, the orangette would push aside the splitting pain in his mind until he could find the forgotten medicine cupboard in the kitchen again. Hopefully _without_ his insane father noticing. Otherwise he would have a big problem, Isshin wouldn't let it slide if he truly was sick, he could vaguely recall that his father had warned him of it the night before and if he was proven right now, all hell would break loose.

'Yes I remember, my beloved Shiro. Thank you for worrying about your Otou-san, but I'll be alright for now. You're such a sweet child, Shiro. I love you, little one, never forget that.' Ichigo said truthfully, a rare smile tugging at his lips when he was gifted an eager nod, a blinding smile in return and Shiro happily snuggled against his side more fully. The six-year-old not even wanting to let go now when Ichigo tried to place him on the kitchen counter so that he could regain more freedom of movement. But the white haired being eventually relented when Ichigo ruffled his hair and headed towards the fridge instead with the promise of getting him a glass of orange juice.

'I love you too Daddy.' The instant that words touched his ears Ichigo felt a heady warmth igniting within the pit of his stomach, saturating his entire being in a brush of welcoming contentedness that flowed eagerly and rapidly through his veins. It was warm, the sensations completely chasing away the doubts and deep and dark sadness that Ichigo had felt building through his heart since earlier. There was no brush of sorrow lingering within his soul, no uncontainable pain as Ichigo hummed softly to himself in bliss. A welcoming brush of belonging igniting within his heart as he returned to his son's side. His lips whispering softly against the two lines of red curving beneath a left eye even as that same golden eye clenched shut at the fleeting touch of affection.

'Thank you.' Ichigo said truthfully, gazing absently into the empty kitchen with a soft smile before returning his attention to his son. 'How about we raid this kitchen for a nice breakfast without waking Ojii-san? Do you think you can keep quiet?' At the little titter in his ear and an eager nod, Ichigo received his answer. He was already feeling more elated, the headache flitting away from his mind as the uncomfortable heat beneath his skin seemed to settle into more manageable levels. As he leaned over Shiro's form to search for the plates in the cupboard behind him however, he was startled when black nailed fingers curled in his jumper and pulled him down. Deep golden eyes gazing up at him pleadingly despite the curl of small smirk across those pale lips.

Ichigo shivered a little at the sight, wondering where his son had learned to smile like that...it was downright devious...

'Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot. What does my little Shiro want for breakfast, hmm?'

'Something that tastes like Daddy.'

'Something that tastes like me?' Ichigo asked with a heady frown, leaning into the small fingertips that laid across his cheek in a gentle touch of affection, an odd sensation swimming through his very soul when the orangette suddenly felt a fire ignite within his veins and a subtle flush coloured his cheeks at the inherent warmth and pleasure it created within him. A gentle haze was entering his dark brown eyes, throwing up a deep dizziness across his mind as his entire being resonating with the soft pulse of energy flowing into him as Shiro hummed softly and drew closer. A blue tongue swiping across a pale bottom lip as the smirk across those lips only seemed to widen at his father's reaction.

'And what does Daddy taste like?' Ichigo eventually managed to ask through his stuttering breaths. The entirety of the situation feeling as if it was coming from a far away world that wasn't his own and his mind seemed to separate completely from his body. Ichigo shuddered deeply, something was being stolen from within him again, a small moan spilling past his lips as a lazy blue tongue dragged up his cheek playfully before pulling away after several moments of the warmed touch. The sudden distance between the two of them snapping the orange haired father into reality with a little shake of his head.

The subtle movement sending soft orange locks fluttering against his cheeks as bewildered chocolate brown eyes gazed at the kitchen around him with a frown, tanned fingertips absently laying across the soft wetness left on his cheek that was left behind as he gazed at his son in sheer bewilderment. What was that? Why had it felt like Ichigo's entire world had suddenly faded into non-existence before snapping back into reality so fast that he was left reeling at the overwhelming sensations? There was even an odd twist of both warmth and anxiety in his stomach before small fingers tugged on jumper again to bring him back to himself. It appeared that Shiro had been saying something, something that Ichigo had missed as he shook his head softly in apology.

'I'm sorry, Shiro. What did you say?'

'I said that Daddy tastes like sweet tea, chocolate and cinnamon. So...can I have some?'

* * *

1* Ojii-san – Grandfather

Okay, all done. Please don't kill me for ending it there, but I thought it was cute enough to end it there. Alright, hopefully I can get the rest of this done before my writing time is up, otherwise it'll be another 3 weeks before this updates. Something I really do not want to happen.

Anyways, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed and please be so kind as to leave me a little review, it'll help feed my two starving muses. For now though, I'm totally exhausted but still happy.

Off for some hot chocolate and a warm bath, I'd offer you some hot chocolate my honeys but sorry...it's all _mine_ today. I'm possessive with my chocolate drinks, as you've probably noticed!

Ja Ne

Chocolate Carnival


	3. Daddy's Little Protector (Part 2)

Oh Yay, finally it's done! I'm sorry that it took me so long to get the second part of chapter 2 out but if I had not taken such time I fear I would have messed up this entire story. Part 2 seems a bit short but remember that it's meant to be read as one chapter with Part 1. Sorry for the inconvenience of that. I also decided to take off the weekend from writing so I'm behind in my works again.

Oh well, I was so stressed about getting The Forgotten Love perfect for Halloween that I kind of forgot all about my other stories. And I also translated Moreia Encomium, during my writing. That was so _not _fun. The written Japanese language is so difficult to translate correctly and all those Kanji letters, I thought I was going to die when they became all I was able to see for a day straight from staring at them for so long.

It doesn't really matter however; I'm finally back on track again. And so glad that I've found a muse to keep me in line. As for now though, there's a huge** spoiler warning** for this chapter **if you either only watch the Anime or have not read past Chapter 542 of the Manga.** For that I apologize, this story is after all a mix of a Supernatural AU and the Canon Bleach setting.

Other than that, there are no warnings for this chapter except for extreme cuteness and a sly Isshin. I'll be posting an image on my blog if you have not seen Ichigo's new swords yet to go and have look, the link for which is on my profile, but for now, please enjoy.

I'll see you at the end of the chapter.

* * *

**Daddy's Little Protector: Part 2**

_'I said that Daddy tastes like sweet tea, chocolate and cinnamon. So...can I have some?'_ Ichigo blinked owlishly several times, his mind still frantically trying to catch up with the flow of reality and the meaning behind those words as chocolate brown orbs gazed down at the innocent expression that was settled upon his child's features with _utter_ bewilderment. A heady frown was furrowing his tangerine brow but Shiro was merely smiling up at him happily, those small black nailed fingertips tugging at the too long sleeves of a black pyjama shirt that must once have belonged to Ichigo when he was much younger. But where his father had dug it out last night, Ichigo did not know. Only now however, with his mind clearing little by little, he was starting to remember little bits and pieces of the events that had transpired yesterday night. Something that Ichigo was finding quite distressing to deal with at the moment...

And the reminder wasn't a pleasant one, especially when he had come _so_ close to losing his child through the hands of an insane man. It was understandable now why Ichigo's nerves were instantly alight with panicked electricity that couldn't be contained as he ruffled his fingers through ragged white locks softly in consolation; _just_ to make sure that his child was alright and not affected by what he had seen or what had happened to him. Shiro merely leaned into the touch of Ichigo's fingertips though, finally giving the orangette an answer to his son's new and constant need for affection that morning. He was probably still frightened by what he had seen, Ichigo noted to himself. Still, with only so few words, Shiro had unknowingly just brightened his father's entire day as the semi-long scruffy orangette burst into heady peals of undeniable mirth. His out of control laughter staining the kitchen's previously quiet atmosphere in a heady rush.

Oh god...the things that little kids could come up with today just to get a treat, Ichigo thought with a lilting smile as he started pulling away from the small comfort that just being close to Shiro brought forth within him. He didn't want to leave his son alone for long, but he had a hungry child on his hands and what was sure to be a tiring day ahead as the subtle brush of his skittering headache seemed to settle more fully into his mind again. Great, and it had just started to fade away, Ichigo scoffed. So instead, the orangette started to make his way towards the fridge again, several uncontainable chuckles escaping his lips as his soul tried very hard not to cave under the wide golden eyed gaze that was looking up at him pleadingly from a sprawl of white locks and an adorable pout that had settled across those pale lips.

'Daddy tastes like sweet tea, chocolate and cinnamon, eh?' Ichigo returned playfully, smiling fondly at the small nod that he received in return to his curious question. 'Is that a subtle way of telling your Otou-san that you want to be spoiled today, Shi?' Ichigo inquired softly as he reached for some eggs, orange juice and milk instead. Chocolate brown eyes not missing the deadly grin that had spread in a smirk across those pale lips again, making him wonder, not for the first time, just where Shiro had learned to smile like that...it was downright dangerous, Ichigo thought absently as he closed the fridge door with a snap and headed deeper into the kitchen and towards the stove instead. He sure as hell had not learnt that from his father...

'Well, I can make you some sweet tea if you'll wait for a few minutes, but as for your chocolate and cinnamon, maybe we'll stop by the store to get a little treat when we return home later. But as for a real breakfast, my little Shi, we'll have to settle for something a little more homely okay? Daddy's not on the menu today, and neither is the things that he tastes like. How about some rolled omelettes, miso soup and rice instead?' When Shiro didn't protest or whine at his words, Ichigo took it as an invitation to continue his work, despite the furrow that tugged at a white brow at his son's displeasure in a mirror to the expression that had been traced across Ichigo's forehead several minutes ago. A comfortable silence seemed to have settled across the kitchen after that; the orangette never once truly aware of the deep golden eyes that followed his form all through the kitchen from the perch on the counter where his son was seated, a lingering fondness and loving wisdom that should_ not_ be present within any six-year-old's eyes, saturating those golden depths deeply.

The King of the Hueco Mundo and ruler of the moonless nights was having the time of his life merely basking happily in the powerful presence that his beloved created just by being close to him. It had been _so_ long since he had been able to see such a wide range of expressions crossing Ichigo's features, especially the genuine smile that was settled across those petal pink lips now. It was specifically a sight that Hichigo knew Ichigo had only _ever_ reserved for him when he had been alive all those years ago. And it was finally back. The little demon couldn't find the words to describe the contentedness that he was feeling right now, or the overwhelming comfort that only a little of Ichigo's reiatsu, which he had managed to steal for himself to sate his incessant hunger by a teasing touch earlier, comforted his very heart and once anguished soul.

It was _perfect_, everything was just right, his Ichigo doting on him whenever he passed by where Hichigo was sitting with sweet little touches and innocent kisses. This was what life should have been like for the past hundred years, Hichigo thought contentedly until another powerful presence decided to join them in the kitchen without the Demon King's permission and completely ruined the sealed Incubus' elated mood. The white haired being had felt _him_ approaching long before Ichigo had, but for this man the Demon King would show no fear despite the pure and powerful Shinigami presence that clung to his form irrevocably. He had recognized him instantly, it was the Shinigami that he had known many years ago as the Captain of the Juubantantai division, held the strength to be the future Soutaichō of the Gotei 13 if _that_ stupid, dictatorial old man decided to finally die and give his throne over to his much more liberal son.

He should have known that however, Hichigo scoffed irritably, no one else would have been able to carry Ichigo's powerful soul into this world unless it had been by that man's undiluted and eternal blood again. His presence here also instantly explained the Captain Class Shinigami that Hichigo had encountered the night before. They were here to protect the son of their commander, but that just begs the question, from what? Just what the hell was Shiba Isshin doing in a place like this...unless his out of control rebellion from a hundred years ago after Ichigo had died had gotten him exiled here. But no, his power wasn't sealed as it should have been, it seemed more distant, like it was blocked to some degree but not cut off like an exile's should be. So just what―.

'Good morning, Ichigo~! And the little one too, I see. Are you two _finally_ awake~?' A rumbling baritone called out suddenly and playfully, completely startling the white haired being from his distressing thoughts when he noted sharp brown eyes, which were so alike in colour to his son's that instantly pinned Hichigo with a knowing glance the instant that white socked feet crossed the threshold into the kitchen. Leaving the sealed demon to frown at the outfit that graced the man's form; a white doctor's coat settled around his shoulders with a fairly colourful shirt that peeked out beneath it. It wasn't what he was expecting to see, just where was the Shinigami robe and white haori? And this man, there was no doubt that he felt human. Looked human too and Hichigo would have mistaken him for a damn human were it not for the power that was present beneath the surface.

He was frowning deeply in confusion, this man should _not_ be human, and he didn't smell right either...like it was an artificial scent that clung to his form the closer that he drew towards them. Hichigo was only vaguely aware that he was exchanging a few words with Ichigo, which the white haired being missed completely because his mind was a million miles away from him in a subtle panic when he realized he couldn't access his powers, but the black haired older male left Hichigo to growl lowly in his throat when a silly grin spread across bearded features and a large tanned hand ruffled the strands of his snow white locks affectionately. Overpowering hands, Hichigo realized, that pulled him away from the counter he had been sitting upon despite the little six-year-old's cry of sheer indignation and straight into a strong chest he did _not_ want to be close to at all.

Hichigo yelped, cursing at the suddenness of the restrictive arms that curled around his waist as a deadly glare of contempt crept into his widened golden eyes. He was going to viciously rip someone apart after this, just because he was sealed into this form did not mean that anyone besides _his_ Ichigo had the right to carry him around like a damn child. He only allowed it to get closer to his beloved Ichigo, not for some shitty old man to pick him up instead as an annoyed whimper escaped his lips when he was forced to cling to a blindingly colourful shirt so that he did not fall to the floor that was suddenly way too far away and he squirmed restlessly in the man's embrace. He could feel tears of frustration clinging to his pale lashes, mourning the fact that he had lost so much of his strength to be manhandled so easily by such a deviously dirty trick from his enemies. It was―.

'Put me down, you _fucking_ Shinigami!' Hichigo hissed lowly, dangerous black nailed fingertips scratching painfully against the back of a tanned neck to try and put some distance between them when the little demon was suddenly pulled into the man's lap when he sat by the table and a headily amused chuckle drifted in the air around them. And still those damn arms refused to let him go, leaving the six-year-old to shoot a look of pure pleading helplessness towards his 'Otou-san' who was merely observing the scene with an amused smile. It was _pure_ torture, Hichigo whined softly, he didn't want to be here and why the hell did he have the strangest urge to cry now? 'I will murder you, Shiba. Cut you into tiny pieces, I'm not a kid to play with, damn it!' Hichigo yelled suddenly, his voice somehow still low enough not to alert Ichigo to what he was truly saying as the orangette gazed curiously at the two of them over his work at the stove. He seemed just as distracted by his thoughts as Hichigo had been earlier.

'Oh hush, little Heika (1*). Little kids shouldn't swear so easily. But if you're going to be playing with Ichigo's heart this time around, then I have all the right in the world to deny you access to my son, don't I? And I still didn't throw you out, did I? Or take your life when it would have been so easy. I let you stay, Shiro, knowing exactly what it was that I was inviting into my home, near my children and the dangers that will come with it because it would have shattered Ichigo's soul if I tried to separate you now.' Isshin whispered seriously, his words drifting hauntingly in the white haired being's ears as their meaning weighted with certain gravity rushed into his mind harshly. Hichigo was frantically going over the information over and over again just to make sure that what he was hearing was correct. This man was letting him stay? Just like that? He wasn't going to have to put up a fight, even when Shiba Isshin would know the clear dangers of Ichigo harbouring a demon in his life? It was unimaginable until one little sentence stuck into his heart and ignited a deep pit of anger through the little demon's veins.

'Play with Ichigo's heart?' Hichigo asked with a deadly glare. 'And just what do you think he is to me, Shiba! You were there a hundred years ago were you not, you _know_ what he is to me. So how can you even insinuate that I would―.' Hichigo was startled harshly when a large palm rested across his forehead abruptly, covering his eyes from the world completely before they brushed stray white strands away from his eyes in consolation. The touch was so unexpected that Hichigo was momentarily stunned into silence, his anger flitting away just as quickly as it had come as he blinked owlishly at the serious expression that had crossed those aged features. Shiba Isshin had gotten older, Hichigo realized. Much older than he should have been if he were a Shinigami. In fact, the last time that Hichigo had seen him, he hadn't even looked a day over twenty six but now...his age almost seemed double that.

'I'm not insinuating anything, little King. I'll not come between a demon and his mate, I'm not suicidal, you know. All I'm asking is that you to be careful. Don't go playing with Ichigo's mind too much, it's already strained because of the memories from his previous life that he locks away from himself without his knowledge. It's a curse of the noble families to be reincarnated after death, you should know that. But this time, I should warn you, there's something a little different within him. Ichigo's powers seemed to have increased because of his mother's blood and meddling with his soul now will only continue to upset the changes that he is already undergoing.'

'Changes? What have you done―.' Hichigo breathed in horror, large golden eyes frantically scanning the surrounding area as he tried to squirm out of the old man's lap again to get to his beloved's side again. But it was useless, his struggles were all averted as his thoughts were interrupted by the older man's annoyed sigh and a fingertip flicked Hichigo's forehead irritably. Causing the demon sealed in a six-year-old's form to whine at the touch and lay his small palm over the throbbing red mark. That hurt, damn it! Hichigo sniffled, he really did _not_ like this man. He wasn't nearly as gentle as his Ichigo was and he always did things with way too much enthusiasm and power.

'I haven't done anything to him, Baka (2*)! Other than carry his soul into the living world again twenty-six years ago. It was Masaki, his mother's soul that was tainted by a Succubus before he was conceived that changed his level of power and the makeup of his spirit. So you should _know_ that the power within his soul is unstable at the moment. A hybrid soul is very dangerous, something that you are more than aware of since you are partially one yourself. I felt his Shinigami side start to awaken when he encountered you two nights ago, but he's going to start responding to your Hollow presence more and more now, especially as an Incubus.'

'Just be careful, Shiro, Ichigo doesn't know anything of the supernatural world and I'd like to keep it that way. He's still human now, I don't want to see him die just to be taken away by Soul Society because he's too powerful for them to control, he's far too headstrong as well. He'll never agree with the way things are handled there.' Hichigo was listening intently to the words, nodding softly as he tried to process the information that was settling in a haze over his mind. His Ichigo was part Succubus? It was no wonder that he was so susceptible to Hichigo's power, that little fact also made their match all the more entwined and―.

'Oi, what're you two whispering so conciliatorily about there, hmm?' A smooth tenor purred suddenly, the two engrossed beings dragged from their serious conversion by the delicious scent of breakfast that wafted around their forms when elegant tanned fingers placed several plates of food on the table with a little frown. Hichigo instantly held out his arms for Ichigo to help from where he had been settled in his 'Ojii-san's' lap, grinning triumphantly over his 'Otou-san's' shoulder as he was finally freed from the stupid old man's grip and settled into a chair next to Ichigo instead. 'Are you planning something stupid again, Oyaji? Well I'll not have it. Shiro's been through enough torture from you for one day. I saw the way that you kept him captive when he didn't want to sit in your lap.' Ichigo continued in annoyance, dishing up his collection of foods with a little irritable frown as he absently patted his son's head when the little one asked if he could sit in his lap instead, promising him that he could do so later when he had finished his breakfast.

'Oya, me?' Isshin asked innocently. 'I'll never do anything dangerous, Ojii-san was just talking to his favourite grandson about treats and sweets. Now, Ichigo, I have to ask. Are you feeling alright, you were unconscious for a little more than a day and I was getting really worried. How are you feeling this morning, does your hand still hurt?' There was a moment of complete and utter silence as two pairs of eyes trained upon the orangette's form, a pair of chopsticks halting mid air as a rolled omelette fell from between them and Ichigo chocked suddenly as a deep frown furrowed his brow in confusion.

'A _day_? Are you serious Dad? It's Saturday today? Just what the _hell_ happened to me?' Ichigo asked softly as he automatically found himself leaning down when Shiro's small fingertips beckoned him closer, soft pads coming up to swipe away at the grain of rice that was stuck to his lips without Ichigo's knowledge. The confused orangette watching curiously as Shiro brought his fingertip to his lips and pulled the grain back into his mouth with a small smile before the youngest of the three seated at the table returned to his food without any further acknowledgment for his actions.

'Otou-san was just tired right? But you're alright now, I always know when my Daddy is alright.' Shiro said happily and Ichigo sighed softly, his mind still trying to catch up to the dangerous information that was swimming through him. Hell, he had missed an entire day, really? And he had woken up feeling sick that morning. Geez, what else had happened that he didn't know anything about.

**...**

An exhalation of sheer and utter exhaustion spilled forth from petal pink lips, Kurosaki Ichigo leaning tiredly against the wall of his apartment foyer as little Shiro entered their small home ahead of him, not even noticing the door being closed and locked behind them. Long white locks trailing behind his hurrying form as the newly dressed six-year-old in black shorts, long white socks, a warm black coat and blue scarf (to guard against the rising autumn chill) happily made his way through the small home of two bedrooms, a large bathroom, kitchen and living room as if he were inspecting it closely for the very first time. Those large golden eyes eagerly and frantically taking in the neat and modern furniture of dark green and brown scattered around the living room as he clutched a rather large, and soft orange plush toy in the form of a puppy in his hands that Yuzu had bought for him earlier when they had gone shopping at her determined insistence.

And damn it, Ichigo cursed heavily now, he never could deny her anything when she begged so sweetly to spend the day with her older brother and nephew when she had seen them at the breakfast table that morning. The only problem now was that Ichigo had entered far too many stores than he would have liked to, probably bought way too many clothes for his child at her surprisingly strong persistence and was forced to carry all the shopping bags afterwards. It was tiring work, especially with Shiro refusing to leave him alone for even a second, either having clung quite frightfully to his hand at the large crowds they had encountered or settled sleepily against Ichigo's hip when he could no longer walk on his own or got too tired. Something that Ichigo found he didn't mind so much as he thought, but left him a little perplexed when his little Shiro had nearly burst into tears earlier when Yuzu had tried to carry him around for a bit instead.

Geez, it was a lot like he had acted with Ichigo's father that morning as well, Shiro simply _refused_ to be more than a few feet away from Ichigo or clinging to some form of his father. Whether it was a coat sleeve or twining his small fingers with Ichigo's, the little one constantly displayed a heady touch of separation anxiety that the orange haired teacher had not seen since he himself had been like that with his mother before she had died. It was a little disconcerting to see, knowing that it had probably been the events from two nights ago that had brought it on, but at least he seemed happy. No true outward appearance of distress that hinted that he was truly affected by the events that had almost gotten him killed before his father's eyes and nearly shattered Ichigo's soul at the mere thought that he had come so close to losing his child. It was something that Ichigo was very grateful for at the moment as he truly hated seeing his son in any form of distress, especially because of the uncomfortable and desperate need within him to sooth away all those fears as quickly as possible.

Ichigo supposed that being a single father would be enough to make any person like that, but he knew that he was equally dependant on his child's presence and happiness around him to feel truly content. As long as Shiro was happy then Ichigo would be happy too. And as long as Ichigo could protect his little one from the dangers and darkness present within this world, to not let his little Shiro experience any of the horrifying terrors that he must have felt when they had been attacked by an insane man, the orangette would be content for the rest of his life. But life didn't work that way apparently; this existence was far too cruel to the innocents of this world, Ichigo thought sadly. He still couldn't believe the audacity of some―.

'Otou-san?' A beautiful child-like voice called out anxiously, successfully dragging Ichigo's wavering attention back to his child's smaller form standing before him. Small black nailed fingertips tugging at Ichigo's right coat sleeve to easily pull the orange haired father deeper into the apartment with a very adult-like concerned frown tugging at small white brows. Leaving Ichigo to smile reassuringly when he caught sight of those large, innocent golden eyes that were gazing up at him pleadingly in just a touch of clear concern. 'Is Otou-san feeling alright?' The small voice asked again; the sight instantly causing the twenty-six-year-old to nod with a smile of reassurance as he briefly passed his tanned fingertips through soft white locks tenderly, marvelling at the silkiness that touched his skin as he observed those two dragon like tails trailing down a small back swaying with every step that Shiro took into the apartment.

'I'm fine, Shi. Just a little tired, is all.' He soothed tenderly when his actions didn't seem to be enough to settle Shiro's concern. Ichigo frowned however as his six-year-old happily led Ichigo towards a soft couch in the middle of the living room, a lilting voice humming a soft tune as the orangette observed the bright orange plush toy that was settled on the couch as well. There was a small noise of surprise spilling from Ichigo's lips the moment that he was surprisingly forced to sit down however, dropping the large array of shopping bags by his feet in sheer shock at the action as a small sigh of relief was soon forced past his lips without his consent. A frown tugging at tangerine brows when the plush toy was pushed into his lap and small fingers tugged at Ichigo's coat untill he was pulled to lay down on the couch. The orangette only allowing the demanding action to indulge his child's whimsical insistence.

'Oh my...and what I am supposed to do with this, Shi? And lying down? Otou-san needs to go pack away your things before starting the bath and dinner, I cannot―.' Small black nailed fingertips pressed across Ichigo's lips abruptly, dragging a couch cushion towards them before it was wedged comfortably beneath Ichigo's head and the orangette sighed softly when warm fingers brushed tenderly through his messy semi-long orange strands softly. Passing playfully over the two strawberry clips that was settled on the right side of Ichigo's head that Shiro had passed onto his father's hair instead when Yuzu had tried to put in the smaller child's hair earlier. The orangette blinking lazily when small lips placed a kiss to his furrowed tangerine brow and chocolate brown eyes fluttered to half-mast at the soft gentleness that was present within the affectionate brush of lips. Shivering unexpectedly at the deep exhaustion that was creeping underneath his skin he hadn't even noticed until now.

'W-what're you doing, Shi?' Ichigo slurred softly, startled when small lips briefly pressed against his before the orangette felt a deep and soothing warmth flowing irrevocably into his trembling limbs, settling overwhelmingly against his soul as the headache that had been bothering him for most of the day started to flit away again. The twenty-six-year-old father pinching a small nose between his fingers however, when those incessant fingers sought to tip his head back for another kiss. Contemplating sitting up again, Ichigo clutched the remarkably soft plush toy in his arms before his body fell back against the softness of the cushions without his permission. His lips pressing affectionately against the top of a white head when Shiro settled himself on the floor in front of Ichigo and rested his small head back against the side of the couch with a little smile that seemed far too mature for his child-like features as he traced small fingers across Ichigo's cheek lovingly.

'If you are tired Daddy, then sleep. I'll look after you for a while, like Otou-san did for me today.'

'B-but―.'

'Sleep, Ichigo. I'll not ask you again, beloved.' Hichigo said commandingly, grinning triumphantly as headily dazed chocolate brown eyes drifted shut at his words almost instantly. His beloved's breaths finally evening out as he curled sleepily on the couch and shifted forward towards where Hichigo's presence was the strongest. The white haired little demon finally allowed to breathe softly in relief when Ichigo's unstable reiatsu, which had been rising and falling tantalizingly throughout all the little adventures they had had that day, settled down too. It had been hell for him, being so achingly close to his beloved_ knowing_ that he couldn't taste that delicious energy without risking upsetting Ichigo's still uncontrolled and developing powers. But it wouldn't matter in the end because Hichigo had got to spend a lovely day by Ichigo's side, despite the annoyingly over enthusiastic 'Aunt' that had been with them too.

That one, Hichigo chuckled softly as he pushed himself to his feet, she had definately inherited the most annoying part of Shiba Isshin's personality. But she was surprisingly perceptive as well, having nearly picked up on the exchange of reiatsu that he had initiated with Ichigo earlier. It had been desperately needed by then however, as Hichigo knew his power could help keep Ichigo's reiatsu stable when it got too uncontrolled and started to affect those around him. But it had also served to settle the white haired demon's growing hunger to steal his beloved's insatiable and delicious life force for himself. Several hours had passed since then, small feel contemplatively carrying a six-year-old form all through the small apartment in search of the blankets. A noise of triumph spilling from pale lips when the Demon King found a large fluffy throw to settle across his beloved's sleeping form as he returned to Ichigo's side.

Settling himself cross legged in front of the couch, Hichigo laid his head against the side of the couch as his large golden eyes sought to fall shut at his own rush of exhaustion. He never knew that the human world was so damn noisy during the day or so complicated with all the strange electronic devices that he had encountered that day. It was no wonder that Grimmjow always threw up such a fuss when Hichigo sent him out on missions here, he thought with a devilish snicker. Next time he knew exactly what to do to annoy his sixth Espada. Ugh...but everything seemed so small in comparison to the trouble the little demon had now.

When they had passed by the alley way he had been cornered in a few night ago, Hichigo had successfully managed to slip inside and away from Ichigo's side for a few minutes to inspect the scene where he had nearly died. The Shinigami had already been there again, Hichigo had felt their undeniable presence clinging to the walls but he had been totally surprised to find a splintered piece of Zangetsu's form laying on the ground. Something that should not have been left there if they had been to clean up the mess they had made of this town. So the white haired being had picked up the shard of the once overwhelmingly powerful blade and had placed it in his pocket.

What he had hoped to do with it, Hichigo didn't know, but it was still sorrowful to see the shattered pieces of his beloved's powerful Zanpactō now. Small fingertips digging out the pitch black splinter from his short's pocket with a lingering sadness that couldn't be described as Hichigo breathed deeply in grief. Zangetsu Ossan had served him well after Ichigo's death, a loyal companion that had always offered a comforting word when Hichigo had been on the verge of insanity, a guiding touch when he got too violent and the _only_ comfort the white haired being had been able to find in those lonely years where he had wanted to do nothing more than self-destruct and drag as many people down into the darkness with him.

Others of his kind, he supposed, would never understand the pain of losing a Zanpactō spirit as they had never possessed one to begin with. But Hichigo did, Ichigo had entrusted the last of his power to his beloved when he had died and when Hichigo had felt the blade shattering a few night ago and Zangetsu's presence falling completely silent, it had truly felt as if he had lost the last tethers that kept him tied to this world. Sorrowful golden eyes gazed sadly at the pitch black blade's splinter, eventually falling shut at the sting of his tears as a shaky breath spilled from pale lips. Hichigo, bravely and just one last time, tried to reach out his power to the spirit that had been tied to his soul for so many years of his pained existence. A bit startled when he became aware of a little flicker of recognition against his heart, the white haired being instantly reached out to the unstable string of reishi and allowed it to guide his soul forward into unknown planes.

The sealed Incubus valiantly stifling his astonished gasp when it suddenly felt as if the floor was ripped from beneath his feet and his very heart was tugged backwards into an unknown and overwhelming oblivion, the little space where Hichigo had become used to Ichigo's presence resting beside him falling away completely as a touch a deep isolation and fear entered his very soul. Large golden eyes frantically snapping open the instant that the nauseating sensations finally subsided from his stomach and encountered a confusing, upside down world with sideway skyscrapers, a deep and dark moonless sky that fell off the edge of the buildings and a whispering breeze that swam into a dizzy focus around him. Small fingers clenching the fabric of his black coat in distress, searching for his elusive and sealed power as golden eyes set upon a sea of black frantically searched the horizon for any plausible rhyme or reason why he ended up in such a strange place before Hichigo was suddenly forced to evade the swish of blade whistling past his ear with a heady curse.

The small six-year-old instantly allowing his honed battle instincts to take over, iron hard skin of his small palm gripping the edge of a deadly sharp black blade and averting its momentum away from his chest before he suddenly found himself flipping through the air with a push of reiatsu, his new clumsiness showing however, when an indistinguishable form managed to grip the edge of his coat and pulled him towards the ground with lightning speed. A gasp of pain leaving pale lips as Hichigo's back made contact with cracking glass, sensitive eyes, which did not need the light to see, gazing dazedly at a pale face suddenly hovering above him curiously. He blinked owlishly, staring up at sharp red pigmented eyes that were gazing down at him from behind long strands of pitch; a heady and determined scowl traced along that brow as long flowing locks of black fell around their forms protectively.

A headily shaky breath left Hichigo's lips when he noticed a smaller black blade, held by another pale hand, which had slid beneath the deadly blade that had been mere inches away from sinking into Hichigo's neck with an expert parry. The being that had captured him and the one that had saved him, Hichigo frowned softly. Pale fingertips curiously coming up to rest against a mask of grey that covered the bottom half of the being's face. Little marks of teeth carved in the top of that grey mask before golden eyes gazed up at the tall form that pulled the larger adult spirit from Hichigo's small form and widened golden eyes finally connected with the familiar silhouette of Zangetsu no Ossan.

The beautiful being with hip length black hair, that reminded the white haired demon so much of his Ichigo, pulled away reluctantly and stood with a small nod. Eagerly leaning into the touch when Zangetsu suddenly tugged the shorter form closer to him and brushed his calloused fingertips through pitch black locks softly in consolation. The masked being only briefly allowing Hichigo a glimpse of his pitch black sword; a sword so large that it was as long as he was tall, darker than the blackest of night, and possessed an elongated hilt with a small gap in the middle of the sword that ran halfway down the beautiful blade before it was suddenly sealed away in bandages of grey and rested across a strong back instead.

'W-what _the_ fuck, Zangetsu Ossan?! Who the hell is this?' Hichigo cursed loudly, forcing himself to stand as he winced at the pain that shot up his back at the action and the trickle of blood that traced down his cheek from where the tip of that blade had managed to cut through the defensive reiatsu he had hardened across his skin. And without even really trying to, Hichigo thought with a hiss. 'He's damn strong.' He noted with contempt, leaving the tall form of Zangetsu to chuckle softly in amusement. The pitch black blade that he had clutched in his hand, much smaller than his dark haired counterparts, but looked just as menacing despite its size. With a more indiscernible hilt, the blade less than half the other's length, sealed itself as the wavy dark brown haired male, with wraparound yellow sunglasses resting on his nose, hung it from a belt on his red and black cloak Hichigo had never noticed on his form before.

The white haired being was completely stunned speechless before another garbled question came out of his lips, golden eyes warily observing the usually stoic tall form of Zangetsu offering him a very rare smile as he stepped forward. The long black haired being trailing behind him, coming to stand next to his taller counterpart as Zangetsu brushed the pad of his calloused thumb against the cut on Hichigo's cheek, sealing the small wound with a brush of reiatsu that the other spirit had managed to create.

_**'I apologize, Hichigo.'**_ He said softly, his free hand returning to long pitch black locks as the older spirit seemed to calm his younger counterpart easily, the being who now curled happily against the older man's side; purring softly even when he leaned into the petting touch enthusiastically. _**'This one's a bit jumpy; understandable since you just invaded our Master's Inner World without his consent. He's newly awakened so he doesn't speak yet, his actions seem to speak for him at the moment and he's not very happy with your presence here. But it's alright, he doesn't know who you are or the significance of your presence here, I'll explain it to him later.'**_ The deep baritone soothed softly and Hichigo found himself frowning deeply at the information the Zanpactō spirit had just given him.

'W-wait...your Master's? Your Master's Inner World, so t-this is Ichigo's world Zangetsu―?' Hichigo was forced to trail off his stuttering question when a hand was held up to keep him silent.

_**'Yes,'**_ Zangetsu affirmed, a lilting smile spreading across his lips as he rested his large hand atop of Hichigo's smaller head in affection._** 'But I'm not Zangetsu anymore, my Master's beloved. I was the one that called you here, but it'll probably be the last time that I can, Hichigo. I cannot thank you enough for looking after me untill now. When my blade shattered it was not because I lost in strength against Katen Kyokotsu or your power got sealed, but because Ichigo's soul was calling me back to him. It was not your fault, so do not feel so guilty. I was not hurt. But the fact that **_**they**_** have managed to seal your powers so affectively is worrying, little Demon King. Please do not worry, me and this little one will protect you from now on.'**_

'Little one...' Hichigo breathed in bewilderment. 'This, this is Ichigo's new Zanpactō spirit? And your blades, the both of you possess one...what's your name?' Hichigo asked curiously, shivering under the sharp gaze of the 'little one' that was gazing at him in fascination now. Little one, Hichigo could see why Zangetsu would refer to him like that, he seemed quite child-like in his curiosity but he was damn deadly, the demon noted, probably even stronger than Zangetsu as he was now. It was a little disconcerting, but Hichigo felt fairly honoured at the sight. He was the first to catch a heady glimpse into the power that rested within his beloved's soul. It was a privilege that Ichigo unconsciously trusted him enough to let him wander into this private world within him, even when he had done it without his knowledge.

_**'Hn, Ichigo seems a lot stronger than in his previous life, Hichigo. I do not know what happened but to harbour a beautiful spirit such as this,'**_ The old man said softly, tipping back a masked chin to observe those red eyes and half hidden features critically. _**'It is an honour to stand beside someone like him. Finally, the heavens have smiled down upon our Master. Fitting since the both of you have been through far too much heartache than destined mates should ever be forced to endure into eternity. As for our name, Hichigo, you should know that we cannot tell you that.'**_

**'Only for Ichigo will we bow and if he decides to grant you access to our power, then we shall tell you and lend you our strength when needed. But for now, I just wanted to thank you. Please do not despair, even sealed to such a state, our master will protect you until you can find a way out of your bindings. We will make sure of it. Now you better return, Hichigo before Ichigo starts to notice something amiss. Look after his human form well, his health will be a bit strained in the next few weeks untill his soul gets used to our awakening, but even without me by your side, you are still strong enough to be able to protect him if something goes wrong.' **

_**'We entrust our master's heart and human life to you, Shirosaki Hichigo, look after him in our stead and protect him against the trespasses of Soul Society.'**_

* * *

1* Heika – Your Majesty, a respectful way to refer to one's king. Although, Isshin probably used it teasingly instead.

2* Baka – Idiot

Okay, I think that covered all my notes. Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate it. As for now please leave me a little review if you would be so kind, I'd be so happy if you do. Any questions however, please do not be afraid to PM me, I'll answer them as best I can and as soon as I can.

That's it for this story for quite a while my honeys as I have a lot of stories to catch up on, but please do not despair, it will be continued in a while. I'm off for a warm drink, some rest and a nice warm bath before starting on Breathe Me In, Touch Me, Bind My Soul.

Yours Always

Chocolate Carnival.


End file.
